I Saw a Face
by izumi-chan7475
Summary: Beatles, Outsiders, Savvy X-over. Harley is a London girl aged 21 who loves music and writes to her cousin from Oklahoma to keep in touch. She was born into a family where everyone gets their own superpower at age 13; a savvy. When Harley's best friend wins two tickets to a Beatles concert, she meets an old friend and a new rival. M for later drugs, violence, lang, adult themes.


** Hey guys! This is my newest fic, and it's a triple crossover of The Beatles (not ATU, sorry), The Outsiders, and Savvy. If you like this, please r/r so I know whether to continue or not. Thanks a bunch!**

-Izumi-chan7475

Prologue

My greatest childhood memory took place in the Summer of 1956. Well, it was more of a teenage memory, but that was still a while back.

My family and I were taking a summer holiday to London; the grand city I'd always heard about as a young boy. We'd stopped at a quaint little park along the way while my older brothers complained.

"Oi, why do we have to do kids' stuff?" My oldest brother Harry droned to my mum as he slammed the car's door, annoyed.

"Yeah," My other sibling, Peter, chimed in, stepping out of the old automobile. "Just because little Georgie's a big baby doesn't mean you have to treat us like children." I narrowed my eyes.

"Calm down, boys." my mother sighed. "It's been a long drive, and we're almost there."

I was completely silent and tuned out my brothers' voices as I strolled down the grassy expanse. As a matter of fact, I DID seem to like children's things. The tranquility of the park had been magnificent, and I'd always had a sense of curiosity of the world.

The sky was a cloudless blue , which almost seemed surreal. Wildflowers of countless, vibrant colours had sprung up among the freshly cut green grass, and tall, sturdy oaks circled the clearing.

I brushed a stray strand of chocolate brown hair out of my face and listened to the English breeze flutter through the bright green treetops, trying not to pick up the mocks and whoops of my older brothers in the distance as I walked to my inner rhythm.

The surprisingly moist, sticky air plastered my scruffy hair to the back of my neck and I scratched at it, annoyed. Soon, my ears picked up the gentle sound of a flowing stream or creek nearby, and I imagined splashing handfuls of cool, refreshing water onto my sweaty face.

My old shoes pounded and swished in the grass as I jogged towards the melody of running water, a perfect natural cure for the plague of summertime. Impatiently, I brushed through a barrier of juniper bushes, unaware of thorns tearing into my brand-new knickerbockers as I came to a clear, winding stream of crystalline water. Resisting the urge to do a full, whopping jump into the creek, I knelt at its edge and splashed the wondrous liquid into my face, enjoying the numbing feeling that wiped the perspiration off my brow and collected as dew on my eyelashes.

Savoring the tributary's life-giving refreshment, I opened my wide eyes and examined the length of the creek in view. To my left, the water crashed over an old wooden plank covered in a soft moss and river weeds that someone must have used to cross the stream long ago. The stream wound out of sight, toward the south.

To my right, I was fairly astonished at the scenery. Sunshine yellow daisies were scattered up and down the little creek's banks, popping out of the long green grass like polka dots on my mum's new blouse, and the water seemed to be a peaceful trickle here rather than the billowing waves to my left.

And, to top it all of, a young girl with hip-length auburn hair was kneeling at the creek's edge, her long fingertips brushing the water's surface.

I took a sharp intake of breath. Girls never seemed to like me, in any friendly way at all, whatsoever. Girls never seemed to like sweaty boys with ripped, dirty trousers and matter hair, anyway!

Slinking low among the underbrush, I attempted to discretely escape from an embarrassing situation… I had always been a shy child, and one of my greatest fears had, in fact, been coming face-to-face with girls my age.

I jumped a about mile high as the girl shouted, "I can still see you, y'know." My face reddened. She was staring at me with round blue eyes, a lighthearted smile spread across her lips. Her thick London accent reminded me of all of the old movies my parents used to watch. Running a hand through my ruddy mess of a haircut, I stood up straighter. "Yeah, I guess you caught me."

The auburn-headed girl gave a low chuckle. Not the stereotypical schoolgirl giggle, a real, warm laugh. "You sound funny, mop top. Where're you visiting from?"

I felt my feet shuffle the ground as I walked towards her. "Liverpool, England, born and raised," I drawled shyly.

\

"Ah," the girl's blue-green eyes pierced my boring ol' brown ones curiously. "That explains it." she laughed again as I awkwardly knelt down next to her. "What brings you down to London, my Liverpudlian lad?"

I gave a crooked smile. "Family holiday," I answered, nodding.

Her ocean-colored eyes drifted from me towards the blue sky, mesmerised by the serenity of it all.

"Come here often?" I broke the silence.

"Oh, yes," she replied coolly, turning again to face me. "Ever since my childhood, I've been coming to this park as often as I could."

Auburn lifted her fingers from the clear stream, and I had to do a double take as the water went from a calm flow to a fast rapid. "How'd you-"

"Shh," the girl whispered as she put an index finger to my lips. Auburn sighed and tilted her head, causing a long strand of flowy hair to fall across her face. She brushed it away with a flourish and asked, "How old are ya, 'Pool?"

I almost laughed; no one ever used the phrase "'Pool" to address me. "Thirteen, as of February." I replied and nodded.

"Interesting," Auburn mumbled intelligently, reminding me of a certain person also known as myself. "I'm turning thirteen in August." The dull roar of the creek made her reply particularly hard to hear, but I'd picked up her answer.

I glanced around at the stunning landscape, taking in a lungful of the humid yet now exhilarating air. "It sure is nice here, isn't it," I sighed.

"What?" Auburn asked, pointing towards her ear. Louder, I exclaimed, "It sure is nice here, isn't it?!"

"Oh, yes," the girl replied, running her fingertips over the water as it slowed again. I cocked an eyebrow at the oddity, very strange. She studied me and laughed, saying, "You look like you need to cool down, Northern boy." My eyes squinted and I laughed loudly as Auburn splashed me with a faceful of ice-cold water. I retaliated and reached down into the stream, flinging more water at the girl.

She then laughed as hard as I'd seen anyone do before as we flung stream water at each other, not caring whether or not we'd be soaked when it came suppertime.

Wiping her eyes from laughter, Auburn stated, "I haven't yet gotten your name."

"Oh," I replied, "It's-"

"George! We're leaving, honey!" I heard my mum call.

"Oh," I sighed disappointedly as I stepped up from the side of the steady creek. "I need to be going now."

"Alright," The girl smiled at me. "If I ever see ya again, my name's Harl-"

"C'mon George! We've got to go!" I heard my mother calling again. I trampled through the bushes, looking back at Auburn as I saw her get up from her stationary position next to the stream. "My name's-"

Her yell was cut off by the sudden crash of water and my mother's shouting.

"Oh, what have you done?!" She exclaimed running toward me. I looked down, wincing at my soaked clothes, torn pants, and ruined shoes. "Mister, you're going to have to explain to both me and your father of why you didn't pay better respect to the new clothes your mum and dad bought just for you-" I tried not to laugh at my mum's scolding. It was true; the only clothes I'd usually worn were old hand-me-downs from my brothers, but I could live like that again. Ruining your only new, fancy clothing was a small price to pay for meeting such an odd yet relatable and friendly girl and having one of the best and most interesting memories of your childhood.


End file.
